Babysitting
by Thorn Dew'Pearled
Summary: Frodo lands the job of babysitting his cousins and Sam


The Author's Note (Yet again!): I'm not all angst, darkness and depression. Because I managed to depress even myself, I decided to try my hand at your general fluffy humour story; in this case Frodo babysitting his cousins and Sam. As usual, all criticisms are welcome!  
  
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'Be a good boy, Frodo.'  
  
'Mind your manners, Sam.'  
  
'Merry, watch over your little cousin please, and behave yourself.'  
  
'Bye bye Pippin!'  
  
The four boys nodded and smiled, waving politely and saying farewell to the retreating backs of parents, uncles and aunts. Before he left, Bilbo took Frodo aside. 'Now, my lad, there is a roast in the oven, and I trust you can do the vegetables by yourself,' he said. 'Watch over your cousins, especially Peregrin. There's no telling what he'll do.'  
  
'Yes, yes, I know uncle,' said Frodo, directing the elderly hobbit to the door. 'We'll be fine. You can trust us.'  
  
'Right then, farewell,' said Bilbo, and walked outside to join Saradoc, Esmeralda, Paladin, Elagantine, Hamfast and Bell. Frodo continued to stand in the doorway, smiling pleasantly, until their laughter faded away in the distance, and he shut the door.  
  
He turned to face Sam, Merry and Pippin. Pippin bounced up and down restlessly. 'Wanna play! Wanna play!' cried the three year old. Frodo sighed. 'Sorry, Pippin,' he said, wanting to keep Bag End in a recognisable state. 'Play time's over now.' Pippin pouted.  
  
'Frodo, I'm hungry,' whined a nine year old Merry. 'Hold on, be patient,' said Frodo, exasperated and wondering how he had landed the job of babysitter. Sam tagged along after Frodo as he made his way to the kitchen. 'Right, here's what we'll do,' announced Frodo decidedly.  
  
'Merry, your mother wants you bathed and in clean clothes by the time they get back. You too Pippin.'  
  
'No!' said Pippin, shaking his head. 'No baaf's for Pip. Wanna play! Mewy, wanna play!' He sidled over to his cousin and hid behind him, glaring at Frodo with all the anger a three year old could muster. Really, he just looked like he'd swallowed a bug.  
  
'You aren't going to be difficult, are you Pip?' asked Frodo wearily. Pippin nodded. 'Be a difcult Pip,' he said seriously. Sam grabbed him by the hand and marched him away to the bathroom. 'If Frodo says you're to bath, then you are going to bath,' he said firmly. Pippin's cried of protests hung in the air long after he'd passed. Merry ran after them, and Frodo followed. The last thing he needed was to have to explain how he'd drownded his youngest cousins.  
  
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'Pip! Hold still!'  
  
'No! No wanna baaf! No baafs! MEWYYYY!'  
  
Sam had Pippin's shirt half-way over his head, but the toddler was making it extremely difficult to remove it. Merry clapped his hands over his ears. 'I bet all of Hobbiton's hearing this!' he yelled over Pippin constant wails.  
  
Frodo grasped Pippin's flailing arms, making it finally possible for Sam to ease the shirt over Pippin's head. The only remaining problem was his pants. Eventually, Pippin was pinned to the floor: Sam at his arms, Merry at his mid, and Frodo at his legs, skilfully dodging vicious kicks.  
  
At last, Pippin was unclothed and splashing happily in the warm water. 'Baaf, baaf!' he sang cheerfully. Frodo could not help but feel a little annoyed. After all that trouble over Pippin not wanting a bath, here he was playing around and enjoying it.  
  
Merry was scrambling for the soap, which was sailing away across the stone floor as Pippin had squeezed it a bit too hard. Sam leapt for it as it went spinning past his foot, only to feel Merry's skull connect with his own with a small crack.  
  
'Ow!' said Merry, rubbing his head bemusedly. Sam staggered about in a daze for a while. 'Sam!' shouted Frodo, lunging for him and pushing him out of the way. Sam's foot had been hovering above the slippery offender.  
  
'C'mon Pip, wash yourself nice,' said Merry, taking the soap from his older cousin and working a it into a lather on Pippin. The toddler giggled and rolled about, Merry getting soaked in the process. 'I'm going to finish dinner. Merry, Sam, can you wash him and get him dressed please?' said Frodo, exiting and massaging his temples. He could feel a tension headache coming on. Babysitting was more trouble then it was worth, considering his work was voluntary.  
  
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A short while later, Frodo; busy stewing mushrooms; was brought out of his musings by a shrill scream. He gave a violent start, dropped the spoon and raced into the hallway in time to see a little blob of pink flesh go zooming past, Merry close behind. 'Pip! Get back here now!' Merry was shouting, brandishing a little white nightshirt.  
  
'MEWYYY!' cried Pippin, bounding into Bilbo's study. 'No!' yelled Frodo, rushing after him. 'Not in there!'  
  
Too late.  
  
The toddler scrambled onto the desk, sending Bilbo's texts flying and knocking over a neatly stacked pile of books in the process. Frodo flinched as it all went crashing to the ground. Merry stared, agape, as his cousin achieved what even a cyclone could not in a few seconds.  
  
Sam came bursting through. Pippin stood on the desk, chubby fists resting on chubby hips, proudly displaying his nudity. 'Pip no get dressed,' he said, wagging a fat finger. 'Be a difcult.'  
  
Frodo had had enough. He strode over to the impudent toddler and seized him around the waist. 'You naughty little scamp,' he chided. Pippin whimpered, while Merry waved the nightshirt teasingly in his face, which provoked a cascade of tears.  
  
'Merry, please, don't aggravate him,' begged Frodo through clenched teeth. The nine year old ceased his capering while Frodo, feeling a little remorseful that he'd raised his voice, comforted the sobbing Pippin. 'Shh, quiet down,' he soothed. Pippin gave a loud wet sniffle and rubbed his eyes. 'Pip be a good boy, no be difcult anymore,' he said sadly. 'I get dressed, be a good boy.'  
  
Merry passed over the nightshirt. Frodo thought that he'd caused enough damage already without bolting around the hole trying to dress Pippin again.  
  
Pippin allowed his older cousin to dress him without anymore protests, instead he sat like a cur whose master has whipped it. Frodo bounced him on his knee. 'Smile Pip,' he grinned. 'You know you want to.' Pippin clapped his hands over his mouth to smother a giggle. All this attention might go away if Frodo succeeded in drawing out a smile or a laugh, especially a laugh.  
  
Merry tickled him. Pippin couldn't help it. He burst out laughing. 'No, Mewy, stop,' he said, pushing him away. 'Fwodo, Pip a hungry now.' 'Oh, is that right?' said Frodo. 'Luckily I managed to finish the preparations before that last episode.' Merry hung his head in shame.  
  
'What is for dinner anyway?' queried Sam eagerly. 'Roast lamb, roast potatoes, peas and mushrooms,' said Frodo. 'Followed by your mother's famous apple pie, Merry.' The young hobbit's brightened at once. Pippin clapped his hands delightedly. 'Woast woast woast!' he chanted.  
  
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'Frodo, he's not eating!'  
  
'Argh! I think he threw something at me!'  
  
'Smash a tayto, smash a tayto!'  
  
'Pippin, you eat with a fork, you don't squash your food with it.'  
  
Frodo looked a little put out as a helping of mashed potato and mushrooms was fired down his shirt. 'Pippin, eat!' he said, annoyed. Pippin shook his head. 'No, not hungy for woast no mores. Wan' a pie.'  
  
'You finish what you've got on your plate first.'  
  
'No, don't wan' a woast.'  
  
'No pie if you don't eat what you've been given.'  
  
Sam picked several peas out of his hair; he'd been unfortunate enough to be seated next to the three year old, who was having more fun showering the others with his dinner than he was eating it.  
  
Pippin pouted, his bottom lip protruding fiercely. 'Frodo, I think you should just give him some pie,' said Merry, afraid of another famous Took Tantrum. 'No, he has got to learn,' said Frodo firmly. Pippin slouched and folded his arms.  
  
'Well, Pip, if you aren't going to finish it, then I will,' said Merry, dragging Pippin's plate across the table. The toddler made no move to retrieve it, so Merry helped himself. Frodo fetched the apple pie off the bench, which was giving off the most tantalising smell.  
  
Merry pushed Pippin's now empty plate back across to him. Pippin glanced at it, then at Frodo, who was slicing the pie, and picked the dish up. 'Fwodo, I finished,' he said hopefully. 'Rascal,' muttered Sam. Frodo gave in. 'Alright Pippin, have your pie,' he said. Pippin gave him a broad grin, which was enough to melt even the hardest heart.  
  
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Later, all four were seated around the fire. Merry was stretched out on the rug, dozing off, cleaned and fed and dreaming of good things. Frodo had Pippin snoozing on his lap. Sam was slumbering in the rocking chair.  
  
Frodo smiled to himself. He had been successful, despite all the trouble his charges had caused...or one charge anyhow. He stroked Pippin's brown curls. The little boy stirred a little but didn't wake. Frodo's eyelids were growing heavy. He hadn't realized how weary he was. Though now he could afford some rest, so he closed his eyes, and fell away into the depths of a dreamless sleep.  
  
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Frodo woke with a start. Chill wind whipped overhead, and hard stony ground bruised his aching limbs. After a moment of confusion, he remembered where he was. He could hear Aragorn's steady breathing nearby, and that of his cousins and Sam on either side.  
  
Reaching out, his hand brushed over Pippin's curls, and he smiled at the memories it brought to mind. 'Thank you,' he whispered. 'All of you.' With that said, he closed his eyes once again to wander in pleasant memories until dawn broke.  
  
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Please review! 


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